It Could Happen Again
by Yva J
Summary: A classroom full of children get a little Christmas history lesson courtesy of Tess. Flashbacks with our favorite AoDs Adam, and Andrew.


_This is just a little Christmas offering. Enjoy and happy holidays._

* * *

**It Could Happen Again**

By Yva J.

_Merry Christmas_

The day before Christmas holidays was a wonderful time for Billy and his friends. The boys could hardly wait for the final bell to sound and they would be free for a whole two weeks. Free from homework, from their usually stern and cross teachers, but mostly free from the cafeteria's version of three-bean salad and greased down tacos.

Billy could hardly wait for Christmas, the ten-year-old fourth grader was really ready, he was awaiting Christmas morning when he would come storming down the stairs and attain his greatest wishes for Christmas. He had practically begged and pleaded his father get him a gun to take to the firing range. He loved guns, and thought almost constantly about action movies and video games. He was one of the boys who could hardly wait to get a real gun, the kind that shot small pellets and could knock over a tin can in one fail swoop.

It was no question, Billy was excited about the upcoming Christmas holidays, he had made no mistakes in telling his parents what he wanted to get and usually, his parents did whatever they could to make their only son happy. The other kids in his class often talked about him, they said that he was a spoiled rotten kid who always got what he wanted, but Billy could only conclude that they were just jealous because he was just good with his puppy dog eyes and pouting face.

As he and his classmates walked into Mrs. Giovanni's History classroom, the first thing Billy noticed was that they had a substitute teacher, the usual keen, angry eyes of their teacher was not looking out at them as they seated themselves at their usual desks, instead a heavy set woman stood at the front of the classroom and she had friendly eyes and a warm smile. Billy noted the outrageous jewelry, most of which looked heavy, but had figures of angels. Would you get a load of this one? He thought to himself as he looked at the woman and gave her the usual once-over that children always seem to give substitute teachers.

"Please, everyone, take your seats," the woman said and Billy nudged his friend Chris once the other boy had sat down in the neighboring seat and he too had started taking in the woman's strange jewelry. "Now then, my name is Tess, and I hope that you children have not decided to give me a hard time because I'm substituting for Mrs. Giovanni. As you know, she and her husband went back to Italy for Christmas, and that's why she's not here today."

"Oh, that's why old Bat eyes isn't here," Billy whispered with a smile on his face that spelled out one word almost instinctively, 'mischief'. "I have the peas, you got a straw?"

Chris looked at his friend. "You're insane, man," he whispered under his breath as Tess conveniently looked away and he passed the small plastic straw to Billy. "That lady looks as though she would eat you for breakfast if you even looked at her the wrong way, but it's your problem."

"What's the matter, Chris, did you suddenly turn chicken?" Billy asked as he held a small pea in his hand and stuck it in the end of his straw. Without stopping to consider the consequences, he shot the pea to the front of the room. From there it ricocheted off the chalkboard and rolled a few feet before it stopped underneath the teacher's desk. As he realized that his shot had not even hit her, he sighed loudly.

"Uh-oh, now you're gonna get it," one of the girls said as she looked at Billy, as Tess' eyes started to scan the room looking for the perpetrator. When her gaze finally came to rest on the two boys, she stood up, wiped her hands down the front of her suit, came over to their desk, leaned up against it, and looked at the two boys meaningfully.

Rather than scold them, Tess only nodded. She had seen this before, but the two boys simply looked up at her innocently as she began to speak. "Instead of tending to our usual lessons today, and seeing as this is the last day before Christmas vacation, I have decided that I will tell you all a special Christmas story. This story is about two of my friends, Andrew and Adam, and how they helped to teach a group of soldiers during the First World War about the meaning of Christmas. This became the basis for one of the most noted ceasefires in the history of war."

Billy looked at her. "Yeah, right, Mrs. Giovanni has already told us about the war, how our troops went over to Europe and kicked some serious booty."

Chris laughed and gave his friend a high-five. "Yeah, and besides that, Billy's daddy knows all about it, he teaches history at the community college."

"So, since we already know all the stories, we'll just be going," Billy said as he and Chris looked longingly at the window and the two boys got to their feet with the intention of leaving the lesson.

Before they could leave the room, Tess put her hands on her hips and shook her head meaningfully at the two boys. "I don't think so, now you sit your little rears back down on those chairs and listen, you might just learn something. You may know about all the stories about the wars and what happens, but you don't know this one, and I am sure that after you hear it, you're not going to be all that keen on having a pistol of any kind, whether it be made of plastic or if it is latest craze down at the local toy store."

"What is the story about then?" One of the girls asked as Tess looked out at the children as they waited. "You said that it was a Christmas story. Is it like 'Rudolph' or 'Frosty'?"

"No baby, this is a true story," Tess said smiling as she looked out among the children. "The year was 1914, right in the midst of the First World War. The troops had been fighting for months, some of them not even knowing why they were fighting, but Christmas was coming quickly, and many of them longed to be home with their families."

**Flashback, December 24, 1914**

The sounds of explosions seemed to be around them but James Hanson stared down at the ground, his eyes sad as he thought about his wife and son back in Liverpool. He had been separated from them for months and now he sat in a trench, cold and wet, a gun strapped to his back and his uniform completely caked with mud.

All around him, his comrades were peering up from the trench every so often to catch a glimpse of daylight. It was now Christmas Eve, and James was tired. He wanted to spend the holiest night of the year in the company of his wife, and not here, fighting in a war. Next to him, Adam was sitting in the corner, a small black book in his hand, and James guessed that Adam was immersed in reading the Bible.

After a few moments, he crawled over to where Adam was sitting, his attention focused on his reading, but he could tell by looking at him that his new friend wanted nothing more than to escape from the trenches and go into another place far away from where they were presently situated in. "What is that?"

"It's a Bible, at least a small pocket-sized one," Adam said smiling as he handed the small book to James for inspection. "A woman pressed it into my hands back when we were leaving Liverpool. I figured that I would pass the time by reading the Christmas story from the second chapter of Luke."

"Nice," the young man said softly as he nonchalantly flipped through the small book and returned it to Adam. "My dad and I used to do that every year on Christmas Eve. We would sit and watch the fire and ponder what the meaning of Christmas was and after that we would crawl into bed after eating the chestnuts and singing a few carols. My grandmother used to have a beat up organ in the parlor and we'd sit there for hours talking and singing. It was a nice time, but then a few years after she died, this whole mess started with the Austrian and Hungarian empire and before I got drafted and was sent to fight here in the middle of this hell-hole." James shook his head, but as his mind drifted back to the time in his life when things were simpler. "My wife Bethany, son, Nick, and myself had just moved to Liverpool some two months before I was sent here. I promised her that I would try and make it home for Christmas. Nick is just a little tyke right now, he's walking and according to the last letter from Bethany, he's getting into everything."

He smiled as he remembered his family and how close they were. The abrupt sounds of gunfire suddenly brought him crashing back down to earth and he looked at Adam. "What about you, Adam, you got family?"

"I guess you could say that I do, it's just that in my family, we tend to travel around a lot, sort of the traveling carnival of sorts." The angel smiled as he looked at the young man. He could see so much fear in the eyes of the man, but he also knew that this was not such a strange and unusual circumstance; in fact, every man who served in his country's military seemed to carry the same concerns, the same feelings and that was whether or not they would survive to the end of war so that they could see their family and friends again.

"Where was God during times like this?" James often would ask himself, but as these questions seemed to dominate his consciousness, he could still hear the sounds of the distant explosions around him. Even on Christmas Eve, we have been ordered to shoot whenever we would see the whites of their eyes, but in the back of his mind, he couldn't simply dismiss the idea that what he was shooting at was nothing more than a terrified human being, someone not so much different than himself. "So, Adam, what is the first thing you're going to do when the war is over and you get to move on?"

"Besides take a shower?" Adam asked as he regarded his disheveled appearance and looked at James. "I guess just go Home, and give my Father the biggest hug I am capable of giving." Adam said smiling as he started to flip through the Bible in the same manner in which James had done only moments ago. He eventually looked at the young man. "James, can I ask you a question?"

The younger man nodded. "Sure, whatever you want."

"I was just wondering why it is that you are fighting in this war," Adam offered.

"I guess for the same reason you are," James said as he shrugged his shoulders. "The secure of freedom, the insurance that the enemy won't get us before we can get them. To keep England as a free and safe nation."

Adam nodded unconvincingly; he knew that this was not the reason he was there. "Perhaps," he eventually offered. "Yet, do you ever think that the enemy may have the same concerns you do?"

James shrugged his shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"Oh I don't know, I mean, the Germans have families and friends too, right?"

"I suppose," James offered.

"Do you think that maybe they don't know why it is that they are fighting in this war?" Adam asked.

"Strangely, I never really thought about it, but there's not a lot I can do about it, I'm just one man, one ordinary soldier. If I stood up and told the Germans that there should be peace for Christmas, they may not think twice about blowing me into the middle of next week," James offered sadly, but somewhere in his mind, he could not help but find some semblance of truth in Adam's words.

After a few moments, he glanced skyward, but instead of thinking further about Adam's contemplations, he prayed that he would survive this war, make it back to Liverpool, and see his wife and son again. He looked at Adam, but the man had already started to talk to his friend, Harry, some three feet away and instead of concentrating on the words being spoken, he stared down at his lap and pulled a half crushed cigarette from his pocket.

The small item was probably the only thing in his possession that was not wet and cold, yet, instead of lighting it; he stared down at his hands for some moments all the while taking in the dirt that covered his thin gloves.

Taking a deep and staggering breath, he pulled a small book of matches from his pocket and slowly managed to light up, as he heard the same question emerging from Adam as he had asked him only moments before.

* * *

On the other side of the battlefield, Georg Peters was sitting in his trench, and he was watching his friends not too far from where he was sitting. The men around him were talking in German about what it would be like to be home for the holidays and how they longed for the war to be over. Georg seemed to share the same feelings, he had been away from his family and friends for almost a half a year, and he still did not grow tired of counting the days of separation from those he loved.

As he sat down on a small flat stone that only seemed to be covered with a small trace of mud, a man he didn't know very well came over to where he was sitting. This man held a canteen that looked to be filled with warm apple cider or something along that line. Seeing someone with a hot drink amidst all this blood and violence was a rarity for him and he watched as the man made himself comfortable nearby. Georg noticed that the man cringed every time an explosion would rake havoc on their small makeshift trench in the middle of the battle. He took a deep breath as he looked up and could see that the man extended the canteen to him and he eventually made eye contact with a pair of kind, sympathetic green eyes.

"You're not in this infantry, or?" Georg eventually asked the man, his question emerging in German as he rubbed his hands together after having taken a swig from the offered canteen and now could feel the warmth of the liquid cursing through his usually chilled body.

"I just got transferred here some hours ago," the man responded with a smile, his voice gentle as he spoke the German words as though he had been studying at the University of Munich for years. "My name is Andrew."

"That's not a typically German name," Georg offered, but he was smiling and it looked as though the man was simply happy to have someone to talk to besides himself.

"My Father gave it to me," Andrew said. "And you are?"

"Georg," came the answer. "I grew up in Berlin, but before I got drafted and was sent here, I had been living in Münster and studying there. I hope to eventually study theology."

"Really?" Andrew asked.

"Yes, I was always interested in the way people believe," the man offered freely. "Seems strange to talk about God out here, where it seems as though it is the last place on the planet where God would actually want to be."

"Oh, I don't know," Andrew offered. "I don't think there are too many places in this world where God would not be present. He seems to not have any problems being everywhere at once."

"The government says that God is only on one side of this or the other," Georg said. "I never really thought too much about why it was or whose side God is on. I ponder often if God is even on anyone's side. Maybe God thinks that war is a big of a mistake as I sometimes do."

"Tonight is Christmas Eve," Andrew offered as he offered the canteen to Georg once more, and was surprised when the young man shook his head.

"There are a lot of other guys here that could use a drink of the hot cider," Georg said.

"Or over there?" Andrew asked as he pointed in the direction of where the British troops were on the other side of the battlefield.

Georg looked out across the dampened field. When he turned back around and in the direction where Andrew had been sitting, he realized that the man was gone. Next to his foot, however rested a small black book, and he leaned down and opened it. As he did, he could see the story of the birth of a child many hundreds of years ago, and how this had been the reason that Christmas had happened in the first place.

He took a deep breath as he placed the book in his pocket and nodded. Something miraculous was going to happen that Christmas, in his heart, he was certain, but he wondered where it was Andrew had gone and why it was this compassionate man had asked the questions that only succeeded in leaving him thinking.

**Present**

As Tess took a deep breath, the children seemed almost captivated with her story, yet Billy's face was filled with denial. "There's no way that could have happened."

"And what makes you so sure that it didn't?" Tess asked. "Were you there?"

Billy shook his head. "My dad's a historian, and he said that…" his voice trailed off.

"What is it baby?" Tess asked.

"Well, I don't know, I just don't think that a soldier would ever just stop fighting, I mean; war is for the love of country and that God is on the side of the good guys." Tess could see that the young boy was starting to lose his footing in this, but instead of speaking, she let him try and sort this out for himself. "What I mean is all soldiers are supposed to think about is killing their enemy and not about that sentimental stuff."

"Sentimental stuff?" One of the other boys looked at him. "Do you even care that my uncle died in Desert Storm? I never even got to know him, I just know that I was named after him."

"Yeah, I'm with Collin on that one," one of the other girls said. "The trouble with boys is you think war is this glamorous idea, and that all there is, is going and killing each other. It's no wonder you want guns and other nonsense for Christmas."

Billy shook his head. "Oh what do you know?"

"She knows a lot," Collin said. "Her dad is MIA."

Tess looked at the classroom and before the arguments could continue, she clapped her hands and looked out at the children. "I am not telling you this story to glorify war, in fact, what I am trying to tell you in this story is that war, whether it happened 100 years ago or today, is hard. It is hard for the children who have lost their mothers or fathers, and it is hard for the spouses and for the soldiers themselves. There is nothing to be glorified by war; in fact, war is probably the worst thing that human beings can do to one another. This story is to show you that people can put aside this anger and hostility and celebrate Christmas."

"Tess, what happened next in the story?" Billy asked with a small voice.

"Well, that night, as the soldiers were amidst the devastation, there was silence in the air…

**Flashback, December 24, 1914**

James watched as the stars came out that night. Adam had disappeared among the troops and he smiled as his friends started to embrace him. He did not understand, but he couldn't help but notice that a number of his friends had laid down their weapons, they were smiling and laughing, and James looked at them.

"Guys, what's going on?" He finally asked and Harry smiled.

"I don't know, but there was this guy, his name was Adam, and he was talking to us all afternoon, he said that we should think about what the guys over there are thinking and doing. We want to celebrate Christmas, and we just decided that orders are not as important as why we are here tonight."

"Where is Adam?" James asked.

"I don't know," Harry said, "but he told Callahan over there that it would be safe for us to come out of the trench."

"Are you kidding?" James asked, but as he peered out across the darkened battlefield, he could not even see one explosion, no sounds of battle at all. It was as though they were all out there in the middle of the vast nothingness. "Are the Germans still out there?" He asked Harry and the other man shook his head.

"I don't know, James, but something really weird is going on," Harry said. "I can hear the sounds of voices, but no gunshots, no firing, nothing. It's downright eerie."

James took a deep breath as he remembered the words that Adam had said earlier that day. He had been sitting and reading a Bible, he had told him about the Christmas story, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that what Adam had said had been the truth. Could he and his comrades really come out of the trenches, sing carols and welcome Christmas day?

* * *

On the other side of the field, Georg had the same thoughts going through his mind. Andrew was now gone, and he was hearing rumors filtering among his friends and fellow-soldiers about a ceasefire. He looked up and could see his friend, Hans walking with weighted steps through the mud.

"I haven't heard any shots fired in over two hours," he commented to his friend. "What do you suppose is happening here?"

Hans shook his head. "I don't know, but I hear that the British want to stop fighting to celebrate Christmas. I know this seems almost risky, but this Andrew chap was talking to me earlier and something he said made a lot of sense. He's not a bad fellow even if he speaks German like a Yankee."

Georg smiled and nodded. "No, not a bad guy at all." He looked up from the trench and his eyes met another pair of eyes.

"Hello," he called out to the man on the other side of the large field.

"Peace," the voice emerged and he nodded understanding the English baroque.

"Ja," he shouted out in German, and started to climb out of the trench. Around him, he could see that his fellow soldiers had started to follow suit and from the other side of the field, the men were climbing out of their own trenches as well. By the time they had reached the middle of the battlefield, Georg extended his hands to the man who was coming in the opposite direction.

"Hi," the man said once he reached where Georg was standing and accepted the hands of the other man. "I'm James."

He smiled and nodded not really understanding the words of the other man, but knowing deep in his heart that there was something beyond language problems that that night symbolized. "Georg," he eventually said and smiled.

James nodded and they could all hear the song 'Silent Night' being started down the front and he smiled broadly when he realized that the entire western front was now singing Christmas carols and the men were all shaking hands, singing together, the German and English voices drifting up to the heavens.

Not far away, Adam and Andrew stood, the two angels smiling as though they had been given the keys to the celestial candy store. "We did it," Adam said.

"It will only last for two days," Andrew said sadly, "but these men will go back into battle with a new sense of brotherhood, that is something that they never knew that they had before, and this will sustain them even after they go back home."

"If it only was going to last for two days, then why did we bother?" Adam asked.

"A lot can happen in two days, and a lot of hearts and lives can be changed," Andrew said as the off key voices of the men could be heard all across the western front. People like Georg and James are going to be friends for the rest of their lives, they may not know it, but they will not forget that they had briefly touched each others lives, and after all, that is the feeling that Christmas emanates, brotherhood of all men."

"Brotherhood," Adam nodded as he glanced skyward. "We are all, indeed children of our Heavenly Father."

"A-men," Andrew confirmed as the carol, "Angels We Have Heard on High' began to emerge from the British troops, and Andrew and Adam began to sing along.

**Present**

"They really stopped fighting for two whole days?" Billy asked as Tess finished the story.

"Yes, they did," Tess said smiling. "This unofficial peace lasted for two days, it was unthinkable, but it was real. These men's lives were changed forever, they were enriched by the events of that one Christmas Eve."

"Wow," one of the girls said softly as she began to think about the events that she had been hearing about in the news. "Do you think it could happen again?"

"I think it could, if people wanted it enough," Tess said and within seconds the bell had sounded and Billy and Chris got to their feet and left the room.

As they left, Tess smiled when she could hear the words of Billy filtering back into the room. "Do you think my dad would take the gun back to the store this close to Christmas? I think I will ask him to get me a book about this instead."

"You're turning into another one of your dad's students," Chris said and smiled.

"Maybe I am, but understanding history could be better than shooting a tin can off a fence, at least that's what he always says, understanding can help change things."

Chris nodded and as he turned back towards the classroom, he could see that Tess was gone, and in the window, a snow-white dove stood cooing and within seconds, it had flown away.

The end…

* * *

_Author's note: Yes, this short story was based on historical fact, but all the characters are fictional. My writing it during the holidays 2002 was inspired after hearing the song: 'It Could Happen Again' As performed by: Collin Raye (one of my favorite singers)._

_I wish you all the best this holiday season. _

_Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me! _

_Namasté,_

_Yva J._


End file.
